Hallelujah
by Crunch
Summary: "Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah" Not as fluffy as most of my fics, a little wierd and a little sad, but go ahead and read anyways. Remember to review!!


Hallelujah- by Crunch  
  
Not as fuzzy or sugary as most of my little one chappies, a bit weird actually, but all the same, read, enjoy, and REVIEW!  
  
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~*~  
  
There was a time  
  
You let me know  
  
What's really going on below  
  
But now you never show it to me, do you?  
  
~*~  
  
Netashia scanned the face of the boy sitting uncomfortabley across from her, wishing his eyes would meet hers. Even now, her heart ached at the prettiness of his features; the big, soft sable eyes twinkling from under the brim the jaunty, trademark cowboy hat; the carved cheeks; the soft lips curled into a permanent, charming grin; the square jaw, now set with determination.  
  
"Jack, whatsa mattah?"  
  
"Nothing." He replied distractedly, moving in for another kiss. Unable to sink into the passion of the moment as she had done so many times before, Netashia pulled backwards, questions invading her mind and breaking the mood which, even she couldn't fail to notice, was destinctly uneasy.  
  
"Come on, Jack, you could tell me. Is it one of da boys? Is it Brooklyn?"  
  
"No, 'snot dem." He shrugged anxiously. In the middle of the condemned and deserted tenant room, where they had spent so many stolen nights together, the moonlight barely crossed the threshold of the windowsill. Still, even in the dim lighting, his worry was obvious; it contorted his handsome face and stiffened his shoulders, usually confident and relaxed.  
  
"Den what is it?" At long last, he sighed.  
  
"Netty, I don't t'ink we should be tagether any more." Her jaw dropped in shock.  
  
~*~  
  
Remember when I moved in you?  
  
The holy dark  
  
Was moving too  
  
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah  
  
~*~  
  
"But. . .but you love me. You said it. You love me."  
  
He shrugged, shifting restlessly back and forth from foot to foot. He was anxious to leave, she realized with a start. "I said a lot of things."  
  
"No" Netty shook her head. "But you SAID you LOVED me." Her pitch rose with every plea; even she could hear the whine creeping into her voice, and it discusted her. But it was too late to turn back now.  
  
"It was just a woid, Netty." Suddenly, he laughed lightly, to her amazement. Son of a gun, he was laughing. "Come on, we's too young fah dis, anyways. How do we know what love is?"  
  
She glanced away, towards the rusted iron cot lieing dormant in one shadowy corner, conjuring up a world of memories. "Remembah dat night, aftah da show at Irving Hall? Remembah, you said you had somethin' to show me?"  
  
He sighed wearily. "Netty. . ."  
  
"We climbed up da fire escape real careful, so we wouldn't distoib da land lord. Remembah you was laughin', and your eyes were shinin' in da moonlight?"  
  
"Netty. . . stop it. . ."  
  
"It was da dead of wintah, and we was so cold, but you said we could warm eachother up? We went to dat cot, and. . ."  
  
". . .dat was a long time ago."  
  
"By da end of da night, we was back on da floor." She scanned his face once more, desparate to meet his eyes. Maybe there would be some spark of recognition, maybe he would remember how happy they had been that night. Maybe he would change his mind.  
  
Maybe.  
  
But his jaw remained set with detirmination. There was no changing Jack's mind, she of all people knew that. She stifled a flow of warm tears as her heart sank further in her chest.  
  
"It's ovah, Netty. It was fun, but it's ovah." Gently, patronizingly, he stroked her cheek. "We could still be friends. But, I don't feel dat way. And what good is it ta pretend?"  
  
Netty sighed, too exausted to fight anymore. She was tired of fighting. Jack took the silence as an agreement, and with a casual smile, he backed slowly towards the doorway. "I'll see ya around, Netty." With that last farewell he was gone, leaving her dead still in the middle of a cold, empty room, too shocked to cry.  
  
~*~  
  
Love is not a victory march  
  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah  
  
~*~  
  
Racetrack stirred as Jack climbed into the bunk above him to a chorus of creaks and groans, as the warped metal springs threatened to give way.  
  
"You missed curfew." He whispered, staring at the dingy matress back looming inches from his face.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Kloppman sais he'll kick you out fer a week if you miss it again."  
  
"Let 'im." A fresh volley of creaks told him Jack was shifting restlessly, something he only did when he was troubled. "I broke it off, ya know."  
  
Race held his breath at those mumbled words, torn between sorrow for his best friend, and an undeniable spark of hope for himself. "With Netty?"  
  
"Yeah." The answer came from above him like a the go ahead from heaven. "I just couldn't look aftah her anymore. I gotta look after meself, ya know? It just got too. . . whats dat woid - complicated. But she'll be alright."  
  
Racetrack didn't answer, just stared thoughtfully at the bunk above him, questions rushing through his mind at breakneck pace. Finally, with a sigh of determination, he rolled carefully off his bunk, glad for the minimal weight that let him move quietly across the volitile floorboards, and crept towards the window.  
  
~*~  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
  
~*~  
  
"Netty?" Racetracks voice echoed eeirily around the chipped and peeling walls of the tenant room. The familiar figure stood, with her back turned to him and her shoulders hunched, rooted to one spot in the middle of the dust-coated floor. "Netty, is you ok?"  
  
"Go away, Race." Netashias voice seemed smaller then usual, much too small for the lively, devoted friend he'd known since childhood; much too small for the girl he loved.  
  
Cautiously, he moved towards her. "I hoid what happened, Netty." Race stopped suddenly, realizing how awkward he must sound.  
  
"I'm fine." She turned to him atlast, the tracks of tears down her round cheeks glistening in the dim lighting. "Race, why does dis always happen ta me?"  
  
His heart broke in two. "Whatdya mean?"  
  
"I mean, why is it always me. Is dere somethin wrong wid me?"  
  
He shook his head passionately, while never taking his eyes off her. "NO. You're poifect. You're so much bettah den all of us, Netty. Better den, Jack, and definitely better den me."  
  
Sighing, she finally raised her bottle green eyes to meet his dark ones, a small, ironic smile hovering on her lips. "Why couldn't it have been you, Race? I wish I'd just fallen in love wid youse."  
  
Swollowing painfully, he folded her in a tight embrace. "So do I, Netty." Sadly, the two friends left the memory-laden room arm in arm.  
  
~*~  
  
It's not a cry you can hear at night  
  
It's not somebody who's seen the light  
  
It's a cold and  
  
It's a broken Hallelujah  
  
  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
  
~*~  
  
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Ooooh, so sad. So weird. Well, maybe you liked that, maybe you didn't, in either case, tell me! REVIEW! 


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